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NXA&A.IU; 



A POEM 



BY A MEMBER OE THE OHIO BAR. 



PUBLISHED BY EDWARD O. JENKINS, 

114 Nassau Street. 
1848. 



i 



11IIUEI; 



A POEM 



BY A MEMBER OF THE OHIO BAR. 



PUBLISHED BY EDWARD O. JENKINS, 

114 Nassau Street. 
1848. 



«*\s 






NiI§IHiL 



Niagara ! upon thy lofty crest 

Of plumage white and terrible, the sun 

Glances aslant, hanging his quivering beams 

In Tyrian glory o'er thee ! I have stood 

Beside thee in the mild autumnal eve, 

When all the trees to the departing day 

Did reverence, girded by him gorgeously — 

And watched thy waters, gathered from all springs, 

In forest born, where the red Indian roams 

With deer-skin clad and feathered moccasin, 

Or where the white man's cities pour their smoke 

To the far-arching heavens ! Lo, here through thrice 

Ten thousand miles of surface variable, 

Tributes are brought from the gay crystal fount 

That holds its silver cup to catch the dew 

On the sky-cleaving mountain ; from the rill 

That dances sparkling down the snowy steep ; 

From pebbly brooks where the young stripling strays 

To build small dams and fairy cataracts, 



To image thee the greater ; from the rivers 

That sweep majestical through valleys rich 

With golden fruitage ; and from broad deep lakes, 

Superior, Huron, Erie, Michigan, 

The mighty giants of the western world, 

Whose shouts make heaven echo, and whose arms 

Exerted to their slightest strength toss up 

Great ships like childish "baubles. From all these 

I view the tides collected, thronging pour 

In might tumultuous, like imprisoned winds 

That make a hollow murmur, and as steeds 

Charging to battle shake their snowy manes, 

And champ the frothy bit— the swollen floods, 

Proud of their wild ungovernable power, 

In a vast army stretch to distant shores, 

Speeding to win the way ! Yon rock-built isle 

Lifting on high its gloomy battlements, 

And threat'ning with its host of waving woods, 

(Marshalled to Dorian music by the notes 

Breathed by the winds o'er Nature's mystic harp,) 

On earth's foundations pillared, strives in vain 

To fetter them. They mocking leap aside 

In two great torrents, each of which hath not 

Its likeness, save the other — and sublime 

Whirl fiercely 'mid the huge opposing rocks 

Toward one great destiny ! 

Ah, whither rush 



5 

The wrathful billows, reckless in their strength 1 

I pause a moment o'er the dizzy verge 

Whence they are plunging. As yet, far below 

I nothing see but the bright glittering sheen 

Of falling Waters. Down and down they go, 

Clasping like foes in conflict and embrace, 

A terrible descent of flashing pomp 

That in the nether space repeats itself, 

Till swims the brain with gazing ! while from rocks 

That seem like pebbles in the stream beneath, 

Their broken spray soars up in blinding mists 

Through which twin rainbows loom ! About my feet 

The clouds are forming. On the sands below 

Men dwindle down to Lilliputian size ; 

And yon strong vessel, which with sinewy arms 

And fiery breath flings back the boiling surge, 

Looks a child's plaything, which a boy's small hand 

Might bear upon its palm. 'Tis terrible! 

I dare not gaze here longer, lest my eye 

Reel with its vastness, and amazed I fall 

Amid this " Hell of Waters !" 

Now I turn, 
And by a long, precipitous descent, 
Wearied at length attain the level shore 
O'er which the beetling crags frown blackness down ; 
Starred here and there by tufts of vernal moss, 
And pale blue flowers that look, like angels' eyes,* 



r 



Upon the storms of passion ! I behold 
The Fall, which late beneath me far I saw, 
Now rising far above! With echoing boom 
The mass of waters boils beneath my feet, 
And for a moment sight is drowned in sound, 
So swells the deaf'ning roar. Then I awake, 
And standing on a rock from which the drops 
Ooze forth like drops of blood from martyrs wrung 
In their last torture, tremble at the scene ! 
Speech, breath is gone — the bosom heaves and 

swells 
With dumb amazement— a wild frantic joy 
Akin to worship seizes on the frame — 
The hands clasp all convulsive, and the tears 
Start from the streaming eyes — the soul is lost, 
Wrapt in its own great wonder ! Far above, 
With gaze upturned and shaded orbs, I view 
Niagara's nodding crest among the clouds, 
Bathed in eternal sunbeams ! Right before 
A wall of waters shimmering up to heaven,. 
Of liquid emerald, with pearl inlaid, 
Rises in wondrous beauty ; changeable 
With its own convolutions, like great snakes 
With green and golden scales involved in fight — 
Snakes huge as Ophiucus' when it spreads 
O'er half the heavens the grandeur of its coil. 
Now bright, now dark, now glittering, now obscure 




7 
The mighty waves fall thundering in th' abyss, 
Which, veiled in clouds of spray, seems fathomless ; 
The spray itself uprises to the skies, 
Dimming their light in mists such as at morn 
Float circling from the ocean — or like smoke 
From some huge conflagration ! All about 
Is full of vastness, power, infinity. 
And as the waves come leaping in their joy, 
Deep calleth unto deep, like heaven's great bass, 
With anthems and with praises. Lo, they sing, 
cl Glory to God most High ! Glory to Him 
Who framed the massive pillars of the earth, 
And built the dome of space, and set the stars, 
And lambent moon, and all-beholding sun 
In its broad chambers ! Glory unto Him 
Whose hand upheaved the mountains, and whose 

touch 
Scooped the wide valleys and the ocean's bed, 
And sent the streams meandering through the earth, 
'Mid pleasant meadows decked with odorous flowers, 
And through green forests where the mavis sings, 
And the deer gambols, and the panther blinks, 
Sunning his spotted skin and painted claws ! 
Aye, glory to the great Invisible — 
Th' Omnipotent, All-Wise, Eternal One, 
Who was, and is, and shall be evermore 
Unchangeable ! The stars may wax and wane — 



8 
The earth become a wandering orb of fire — 
Our strength may cease, and our wild sport of waves 
Turn to a barren desert ; but Him, age 
Of century on century up-piled, 
Making creation hoar and desolate, 
Can never touch with weakness. Still sublime 
He stands as proudly 'mid the wreck of worlds 
As at their birth. To Him the latest end 
Is but as the beginning. Let all floods, 
And mountains, groves, and caves, and eddying 

winds 
Praise Him alone — and let proud vaunting man, 
Who hath more cause for gratitude than all, 
Take up the anthem, till the utmost shores 
Shall echo to the skies the name of God !" 

Such is thy voice to me, oh mighty stream, 
And such the awful measure thou hast sung 
Since the first birth of Time. The Indian boy 
Hath watched thee tumbling down two hundred feet, 
And clasped his hands, and blindly murmured, 

" God !» 
The sage hath viewed thee, and with tremulous 

voice, 
Uttered, " 'Twas God who dug thy channels deep, 
And fed them from a thousand streams and lakes !" 
And the weak woman, bowing like a flower 
The wind hath shaken, raised her tender eyes, 



9 
And in deep rapture whispered, " 'Twas my God !" 
The atheist, bold in other presence, here 
Feels the dread truth come crowding o'er his brain, 
And owns a Deity ! " 'Twas God," he cries, 
" Who crowned thee here the Queen of Cataracts, 
With clouds by day and glittering stars by night ; 
Built thy pavilion in the soft blue air, 
Reared thy broad throne of adamantine rock ; 
Robed thee with terror — veiled thee in the mist, 
And sandalled thee with sunbeams ! Lo, thou 

walk'st 
In glory on the rainbow, and its seal 
Gems thy bright forehead, and constrains thy 

strength, 
Reminding thee that 'gainst his word who said, 
< The waters shall no more destroy the earth,' 
E'«n thou art impotent. Go on — go on, 
And from thy mighty depths still thunder, God !" 

The spirit of thy song, Niagara, 
Descends upon me — my full soul is riven 
With terror and with beauty. Through my brain 
The universe of all created things 
Pours down the stream of thought. I faint — I sink 
'Neath the impetuous torrent. Help, God ! 
Help me, a finite creature, to sustain 
Thine Infinite glory ! 

Now I breathe more calm, 



10 
As in a Presence of subduing power, 
And whilst I list, the beating of my heart 
Grows audible. And now a still small voice 
Of wonderful and solemn melody 
Breathes in my soul this teaching : " Thus," it says — 
" Thus thou, frail man, with myriad tribes of men, 
Like smallest drops in Ocean, art now borne 
Down Time's resistless current, toward the abyss 
That yawns for all. Each morning thou art nearer, 
Each evening sunset tells thee thou hast passed 
A portion of the space dividing thee 
From thy fore-ordered doom. Death spareth none — 
The mighty monarchs of the Infant world, 
The heroes and the sages, where are they ? 
Gone — gone forever ! Not a vestige left 
Of all their greatness, to whose potent names 
The world did homage, trembling as they passed ! 
Still is he King of Terrors — down his tide 
Go age and prattling childhood — thither too 
The strong, and beautiful, and gifted tend, 
As captives chained of old to chariot wheels 
Went toward the Eternal City ! Never yet 
Had victor such a triumph. Even now 
When life appears most joyous, and its w T aves 
Take up a brisker dance, thou may ? st approach 
The dreadful cataract. No power averts, 
No prayers postpone thine advent. Then so live, 



11 

That when in the last fearful mortal hour, 
Thy wave, borne on at unexpected speed, 
O'erhangs the yawning chasm, soon to fall, 
Thou start not back affrighted, like a youth 
That wakes from sleep to find his feeble bark 
Suspended o'er Niagara, and with shrieks 
And unavailing cries alarms the air, 
Tossing his hands in frenzied fear a moment, 
Then borne away forever ! but with gaze 
Calm and serene look through the eddying mists, 
On faith's unclouded bow, and take thy plunge 
As one whose Father's arms are stretched beneath, 
Who falls into the bosom of his God ! 

Niagara Falls, 1848. 



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